Call Out The Wicked Hearted
I have a sound,
Though I cannot speak.
To you,
I am just a piece of meat.
Raised in a cage,
Hunted down on the street.
To you,
I am just a piece of meat.
Tie off my snout,
Bind my legs.
Can you hear me whimpering?
Can you hear me beg?
Beat me down,
Throw me into the heat,
Slash my throat.
So you can have my meat.
I feel pain,
I know fear.
No matter to you;
You see no tears.
Because as my heart ceases to beat.
To you,
I am still just a piece of meat.
Poetry Slam:
This poem is about:
Our world